Castro's Bomb (2011) by Robert Conroy

Author:Robert Conroy [Conroy, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf_history
Published: 2011-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Sergeant Cullen came back to their camp from a little scouting which had resulted in him finding some fresh fruit. He saw the lieutenant sitting with Cathy and stifled a smile. Good luck, he thought. And they were going to need it. He thought Cathy was cute enough but he preferred his women a little more voluptuous. Like Marilyn Monroe. Too bad she'd gone and killed herself the past summer. What a waste. Yeah, like he was ever going to meet her.

He looked around. Okay, he thought, where is everybody? The lieutenant and Cathy were huddled by a tree and Williams and Groth were on sentry duty. He'd just checked on them so that was fine. So where were Hollis and Anders? He kicked a sleeping Ward on the sole of his foot. Ward was alert in an instant.

"Where are your buddies?"

Ward yawned. "They said they were going down the road to check out a damaged truck. They said they saw boxes that might contain food and stuff."

Cullen felt his anger rising. "Did either of those yo-yos even think to ask permission?"

"No, gunnery sergeant," Ward stammered.

"You know where that damned truck is, don't you, and stop saying gunnery sergeant."

"Yes, Gunny."

"Wonderful. Grab your weapon and follow me."

The two men walked, half trotted, through the underbrush. Cullen led and he kept an eye out for trouble. Ward told Cullen that the wreck was maybe two miles away and they thought it had been strafed by American planes. There were containers on the road and Hollis thought they might contain something useful.

"Assholes," Cullen snarled. "Did it ever occur to them that it might be an ambush, just like the dummy tanks might be? Or have you forgotten that the Cuban fucks know we're out here?"

Ward's jaw dropped, "Oh, Christ."

When they were about a half mile away from where Ward thought the truck was, they heard the distant pop-pop sounds of gunfire. When they got much closer, they were able to differentiate between the sounds of an M1 Garand and other, different, weapons, but they didn't hear the lethal chatter of AK47s.

The two marines crawled to the top of a low hill. The truck was a quarter mile away and more than a dozen Cuban soldiers were between them and the truck and were crawling towards it. The Cubans had divided into two groups. One was advancing on the truck and the other was providing covering fire. The Cubans were militia and carried what appeared to be old bolt-action rifles. Nor did they seem to be firing with any kind of accuracy. Thank God for small favors, Cullen thought. He and Ward slid over the crest and ducked behind a curve in the earth. They were behind the Cubans and he was confident they could not be seen.

"Ward, you a good shot?"

"I'm a marine, gunny."

"Don't be a smartass. Can you start picking off those Cubans?"

"Yes."

"Good. So can I. Now, start killing them from the left and I'll begin from the right."

The Cubans were about

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